Harry Potter And The Beast Of Slytherin
by JimMcGuffin
Summary: Harry Potter of Slytherin house's second year begins off hectically, to say the least. Isolation from his friends, ominous warnings of a danger to Hogwarts and all of it's inhabitants? It was sounding like this year would be even more eventful than the last.
1. The Second Best Birthday

**Well, I'm finally back. I said I'd have the sequel out in around a month's time, and it's been over a year. I just had a really bad case of writer's block I guess. Every time I'd try to write down my ideas the words used were unsatisfactory and I just distanced myself from this story for a long time, reading various things and just taking a long break. So I apologize to the readers of the first entry for keeping you waiting for so long. Any new readers, well it's not mandatory you read the first entry of this series, but it would be nice. I hope to post around two chapters a month. Enjoy!**

Harry Potter and the Beast Of Slytherin

Chapter 1: The Second Best Birthday.

Harry Potter of Number 4 Privet Drive was bored. With nothing but an intelligent-but-still-not-a-person-owl for company, anybody would be. It wasn't the worst thing in the world, Harry thought as he stared up at the rapidly darkening ceiling of his bedroom. The first day back to Privet Drive was the usual. Chores, chores and more chores, while his cousin Dudley sat around on his fat arse and ate continuously throughout the day, his piggy eyes staring at Harry working in the scorching sun with mirth. But that hadn't lasted.

Ever since his Aunt and Uncle realized he had his trunk, and therefore wand, in his room, they'd been acting meek around him. But in a different way, as though they were afraid to not only confront him, but ask why he had all his possessions with him when they probably had planned to lock it away beforehand. It was a nice change, and Harry suspected it had to do with the notice-me-not and anti-compulsion charms his friend Theo had an older student cast on his trunk during the last day of school.

Speaking of friends, Harry noted again that a day had gone by without any letters. It wasn't like he expected sappy letters from his usually snide Slytherin friends, seeing as they were the least emotional people he knew, but even a stiff aristocratic birthday card wishing him good health would have sufficed to let him know that they hadn't forgotten about him (and the entire year at Hogwarts hadn't been a dream, he feared in a more wild part of his mind) but still, it was getting lonely. Even if not having to see his hateful relative's faces was the best he could hope for in this suburban prison, it wouldn't hurt to have the odd message from his friends to tide him over until he could be rid of this place and see his friends again in person.

After a few days, Harry just assumed that they weren't the letter writing type, and that Hermione didn't have an owl, and that the Weasley twins had forgotten about him. After all, he wasn't that close to them, but he still expected *something* from his friends for his birthday. And here he was, at the end of the day that marked his twelfth birthday, pretending he didn't exist while his manatee of an uncle entertained some business associates downstairs, hoping for some stupid order of drills. If only they could see the famous boy-who-lived now, Harry thought sarcastically. Not that he was indignant because he was famous. Harry was ambivalent about his fame. He was famous in the first place for a horrible event that changed his life for the worst, but on the other hand he could potentially use his fame to his advantage sometime in the future, as Harry's friends reminded him during the first week of school when he complained frequently of all the gawkers and whisperers in the halls.

All in all, it had been a hectic, confusing year. Overall, the majority of it was completely normal (or at least as normal as a magical school can be) except for the secret plot Harry and his friends had _thought_ they had discovered: Their defense teacher, Professor Quirrel was trying to steal a valuable magical object from one of Headmaster Dumbledore's friends and use it to get rich. Harry and his friends then made an attempt to apprehend an apparently incompetent teacher who had a part time job as a mediocre thief. Who happened to have Lord Voldemort stuck to the back of his head, and it turned out Quirrel was involved an attempt to achieve something far more sinister than a *simple* robbery of a valuable magical object.

Harry mentally shook himself. He was trying not to think about that. It was a terrible memory for so many reasons. Recklessness "unbecoming of a Slytherin", putting his friends in danger, failing in their attempt, not to mention Voldemort himself. Harry now was starting to understand why most *adults* were afraid to say his name. Focusing on the present was somewhat unpleasant. Hiding up here in his room from his relatives... It was irksome. Although he spent most of his time hiding in his room normally, it was by his own choice, not because he was ordered to by his purple faced uncle. In that time he had managed to finish all of his summer essays, all of which he thought would yield better than average marks. Now he regretted finishing them so quickly, as he had nothing to do now. Or at least, nothing that would cause any noise, which he was forbidden to make while the Dursleys were entertaining some muggles.

The Manors they were called? Majors? Mansons? Masons? Yes, that was it. The Masons.

Hearing a burst of sickeningly fake laughter as his uncle told the Masons some unfunny joke, Harry started to get out of bed to retrieve something to eat from the stash of food he had been building up and hiding under a loose floorboard beneath his bed. Honestly, the Dursleys had so much food in their freezer that they didn't even notice that it was going missing.

Harry was rummaging around under his bed when he was startled by a frighteningly loud crack. Pulling out from underneath his bed as fast as lightning, fearing that the noise was made by the Dursleys coming upstairs to discover his stash of stolen food. Still crouching in front of his bed, he looked around and saw nothing, and still he heard insincere laughter from downstairs.

Still, he kept his eyes focused warily on the door for a few more moments before he was startled once again, as a high pitched voice broke the tense silence.

"The great Harry Potter! Such an honour it is to meet you sir!"

Harry leapt up and whirled around. There, on his bed, was a small, wrinkled creature with massive, tennis ball sized eyes and floppy bat ears - a house elf.

"Um, hello. I'm pleased to meet you." Harry began awkwardly. To his horror, the house elf let out an excited squeak and began to speak in an even higher pitched voice than before.

"P-pleased to meet me? Dobby has heard stories of Harry Potter's greatness, but not of his kindness!"

"Could you keep it down please?" Harry hissed urgently. "The muggles downstairs will hear you."

"Of course sir." said the elf, adopting a stage whisper.

"So who are you? I mean, what's your name?" Harry asked the creature. Although he *knew* about house elves, he wasn't sure how to address them or all of the customs that must be observed.

"Dobby sir. Just Dobby. Dobby the house elf." the elf whispered.

"I'm not trying to sound rude, but why are you in my bedroom, in a muggle house?" Harry asked, finally getting over his surprise at finding a house elf in his bedroom, and starting to ask the logical questions.

"Dobby has come to warn the great Harry Potter! There is a plot to make the most terrible things happen at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year. Harry Potter must stay away. He is too valuable to risk-"

"Hang on!" interrupted Harry. "Stay away from Hogwarts? That's not going to happen. I don't belong here. If I'm so great, then why am I forced to be in my room pretending not to exist by a bunch of bigoted muggles? I'm in more danger of dying from boredom and loneliness here than any plot at Hogwarts." Harry said, beginning to wonder if this was a joke of some kind being played on him by one of his numerous pureblood friends, who all likely had house elves.

"Better here than at Hogwarts, where you will be in mortal peril! It is more dangerous than you can begin to comprehend, Harry Potter sir." Dobby said urgently.

"I'd rather be in mortal peril with my friends than safe and sound with people I despise." Harry said, starting to get annoyed. The mere notion of *not* going back to Hogwarts was unacceptable.

"Friends who don't even write to Harry Potter?" the elf said slyly.

"How do you know they haven't been writing to me?" Harry said sharply.

"Dobby was doing it for Harry Potter's own good, you must know..." Dobby began meekly.

"Dobby..." Harry growled. "Who are your owners, and have you been stealing my mail? Is that why I haven't gotten anything?"

"Ahh, Dobby mustn't tell who his masters are. Dobby is sorry. Dobby has already disobeyed his masters too much simply by coming here to warn the great Harry Potter."

"Would you stop calling me that?" Harry said, annoyed. He was used to *people* acting star struck, but even house elves were taken with him as well?

"Yes sir." said the elf sadly. "Dobby doesn't meet many decent wizards. Harry Potter is not only great in his powers, but also in his kindness."

"I haven't been that kind to you." Harry said, bemused.

"Kind compared to how Dobby is treated back at home." Dobby said, looking skittish.

"Your owners mustn't be very nice then." Harry said, frowning. He remembered depictions of house elves in library books. They usually wore some sort of toga like cloth, but Dobby was wearing what looked like a filthy pillow case that hadn't been washed in years.

"No, they aren't." the elf said miserably. Immediately, Dobby leaped off of Harry's bed and ran head first into the wall. The resounding thud would surely echo downstairs.

Harry rushed over and seized the elf by the shouldrs and placed him back down on the bed.

"Don't do that again!" Harry hissed, as he heard the voices downstairs falter. *Please don't come up here* Harry thought desperately.

"Dobby is sorry. Dobby had to punish himself. He spoke ill of his family." Dobby said miserably. The elf then tried to leap up again, but Harry restrained him.

"Stop it! If you try to do that again, I swear I'll..." Harry faltered. He wouldn't really hurt Dobby, but he was hoping an empty threat would stop him from making a racket, but he didn't really know the rules of punishing other's house elves. He knew you could punish your own elf in any way you pleased *which Dobby's masters seem to have taken full advantage of* Harry thought darkly, but he didn't know if you could punish other wizard's house elves. It wouldn't be much of a threat if Dobby knew Harry couldn't touch him.

Dobby looked down at the floor sadly. "'Tis okay sir, Dobby is used to threats," said the elf. "Dobby receives death threats five times a day at home."

Harry, interrupted from his musings on house elf customs, was shocked.

"Hang on!" Harry said indignantly. "Death threats?"

What little Harry did know about house elves he had learned from his pureblood friends. He at first had been skeptical of the fact house elves weren't paid, but the consensus had been that the elves _enjoyed_ working for free. They saw it as an honour, as being part of a family, and as long as they were treated kindly by whatever wizarding family they worked for, they were happy. Daphne had told Harry that, despite the fact that, unless freed, they were bound to one family their entire lives, wizards simply couldn't mistreat their elves. It was seen as uncouth and uncivilized, and it was usually scandalous whenever stories of wizards abusing their elves got out. If any wizarding family had to deal with a misbehaving elf, the owner simply had to threaten them with clothes, essentially resulting in a banishment from the family they were supposed to serve.

Dobby began shaking his head, his eyes bulging and made another lunge at Harry's wall, but he intercepted the mad elf in time.

"Dobby mustn't mention his masters misdeeds, sir! Dobby must punish himself!"

"Well, do that later when you're at your own house." Harry whispered urgently, thankfully hearing the conversation resume downstairs.

"Dobby is sorry for inconveniencing the great Harry Potter, sir. Dobby will return home as soon as Harry Potter agrees not to return to Hogwarts!" the elf pleaded

"I can't Dobby, anywhere is better than here!" Harry said apologetically.

"Then you leave Dobby no chance..." the elf said sadly

"Wait!" Harry said, thinking quickly. "Okay! I'll stay!" he got out just as the elf dashed from the room. Dobby slowly turned around to face Harry.

"Just give me my friend's letters and don't intercept them anymore, I'll need some way to talk to them if I'm not going to Hogwarts this year." Harry pleaded.

The elf reached down and retrieved a large stack of letters from his pillowcase and offered them to Harry, which Harry accepted. As he was shuffling through them, seeing who they were from, the elf dashed out the room again.

"What are you doing!" Harry demanded of the elf, now at the top of the stairs.

"Dobby must ensure Harry Potter keeps his word. Harry Potter must not be **_allowed_** to return to Hogwarts. Dobby is sorry, Harry Potter sir." the elf said sadly.

Harry's eyes widened in horror as the elf hopped down the stairs. Harry followed, leaping the last four steps and landing catlike at the bottom. He managed to snatch the elf by the collar of it's pillowcase before he went around the corner.

"No, I agreed to stay here. My friends or their families may not be your owners, but they'll probably know who is. You do _anything_ that gets me in trouble with the Dursleys, then the next time I see my friends I'll tell them an elf called Dobby came to visit me against their master's wishes. Got it?" Harry sternly told the struggling elf.

"Harry Potter wouldn't! Dobby would be grievously punished!"

"You leave me no choice, Dobby. That is, if you cause me any trouble that will make the Dursleys punish me in any way. And I don't just mean tonight, either. Don't come back to Privet Drive." Harry felt bad about threatening the poor creature, but he never intended to keep his word. As long as the elf thought he wouldn't return to Hogwarts and he got his letters, he'd tell the elf anything.

"Yes sir. Dobby will not cause trouble for the great Harry Potter." the elf agreed pitifully.

"Listen, I appreciate you warning me, but life here is hard enough without an elf getting me in trouble with the Dursleys. I'm sorry, Dobby. Now can you please go back home?" Harry said, ears focusing intently on any signs of the Dursleys or Masons leaving the living room. Being discovered in the hallway with a magical creature would be less than ideal.

"Harry Potter must unhand me first, sir!" the elf said

"Right, sorry." Harry said, putting the elf down and repositioning himself, blocking the elf's path to the rest of the house.

"Goodbye, Harry Potter!" waved the elf, with a suspicious look in it's eyes. Harry realized too late what was going to happen. The elf snapped it's fingers and with a loud *crack* the elf disappeared. The voices from the dining room instantly faltered. Panicking, Harry sprinted up the stairs as quietly as he could and leaped into his bedroom, closing the door and hiding his food stash and letters. He had barely sat back down on his bed when his uncle came barging in.

"What in the devil was that noise, boy?" his Uncle demanded

Harry, lying innocently on his bed leaned up, feigning grogginess.

"Dunno. You heard it too? Sounded like a car backfiring or something. What time is it?" He said, reaching for his glasses that he had just placed on the nightstand seconds before his uncle came in.

"Don't play dumb with me." his Uncle said impatiently. "I know it was you, practicing some freaky trick or something."

"My trunk is still locked at the foot of my bed, with my you-know-what inside." Harry said. "Besides, why would I do that? What would I get out of making noises?"

"To ruin this deal with the Masons!" Vernon said, making it sound as if it was obvious.

"And how would that in any way be a _good_ thing for me?" Harry said, trying to hold back a smile at the absurdity of it.

"That..." his Uncle stuttered. "How am I supposed to know how you think?" he demanded.

"I don't want to cause any trouble for you or the Masons. In fact, is there any way I can help you get your order of drills?" Harry asked, trying his best to be polite.

"Now I know you're up to no good. You're to stay in your room and the Masons are not to see you. You'd just use it as an opportunity to muck things up for me!" Vernon said, his moustache bristling with suspicion.

"Sorry, I just wanted to be out of my room. In a few minutes is the usual time Hedwig stops sleeping and begins making a racket so I'll let her out." Harry shrugged, feigning innocence.

"You better keep that bird quiet! The Masons cannot hear it and know we have wild animals in our house!" Vernon said, a mild look of panic in his eyes.

"I can't help it, she was a mandatory purchase on the school list and she's used to getting let out during the night." Harry began innocently. "I was hoping if maybe I wasn't in the room she won't notice me and start making noise."

"Well, fine, just this one night you can let the bloody bird out when it wakes up, but no coming down stairs. Am I understood?"

"But then if I let her out once, she'll get used to it and want to be let out every night, and probably start making more noise than ever." Harry said, feigning a face of concern.

"Are you threatening me?" his uncle said, glaring.

"No, no, not at all. I'm just trying to figure a way out of this. If she stays in her cage tonight she'll probably make noise and the Masons will hear, but if I do let her out, she'll have to be let out every night so she won't make noise." Harry said, speaking slowly as if to a child.

"Then let it out every night!" barked his uncle, a vein throbbing in his forehead

"I'd love to." Harry said coldly. "It wasn't my idea to lock her up in the first place, remember?"

"Oh yes, that's right..." Vernon trailed off uncertainly.

"I swear, you can check Hedwig every night before I let her out to make sure I'm not sending any letters to anyone, okay? I won't take advantage of your trust, Uncle Vernon. I promise." Harry said, trying his best to emulate his naïve younger self's pleading tones.

"I suppose there's nothing wrong with that..." his uncle said quickly.

"Okay, you can let the bird out, but no sending any letters to any of - any of your kind -" he said, glaring. "Got it?"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon." Harry said innocently.

His Uncle was about to leave the room, he stopped and turned back. "Actually no, not tonight. I'll be downstairs entertaining the Masons so I won't be able to stop the bird from sending any... _secret messages_ when you let it go."

"What kind of important messages could I write in the few minutes before I let her go?" Harry said blankly.

As his Uncle raised a meaty hand to object, Harry interrupted him.

"Nevermind, I'll just let her go now, in front of you, is that alright?"

"Yes... Well, I suppose." blustered Vernon.

He handed Harry the key who undid the cage. Stroking Hedwig's feathers, he opened the window for her.

"Sorry, nothing for you to take, girl."

"What are you talking to the bloody bird for?" demanded his Uncle. "It can't understand you."

"Actually I think she can. These aren't ordinary Owls, I think they're ma- special. They've been used as companions and domesticated for centuries by my lot."

As the beautiful snowy owl took off into the night sky, his uncle left the room, shaking his head and muttering about "weirdos".

All in all, that was remarkably easy. Sure, he'd submit Hedwig to a search each night, but he'd just have her fly back a few minutes later to pick up any letters he had for her to deliver. Any letters he had he'd hide underneath the floorboard so if his Uncle searched for any he wouldn't find them.

Speaking of letters, Harry returned to the sizeable pile Dobby the elf had left. While the elf had seemed sincere, Harry still harbored small suspicions that it was a joke on one of his friend's part.

Rifling through the pile, Harry immediately seized the largest one, a package from Hagrid. Unwrapping it, he discovered a leatherbound book and a package of rock cakes. Opening the book up, he found a note inside that read "Got a bunch of your parent's old school friends together and put this together. Hope you like it. Forgot to give it to you at the end of term. Consider it (along with the cakes!) a birthday present. Best wishes, - Hagrid."

Harry, who had only seen his parents in recent history while viewing a mirror last Christmas, easily immersed himself in the book for well over an hour. After viewing each moving picture at least twice, he stored the book in his bedside table and returned to the other letters.

On top of the pile was, surprisingly, a letter from the Weasleys.

"Hello from Fred and George! Hope those muggles are treating you right, how was your summer?

Listen Harry, we're going to be honest with you. We may or may not (mostly may) have let slip you didn't go home for Christmas and now mom is all concerned about you. Basically, we're supposed to check up on you and find out if you want something for your birthday.

Keep your spirits up - George and Fred."

Harry immediately began cringing. This could have been from over a month ago and he never replied. He really hoped the Weasleys didn't think he was ignoring them.

Moving onto the next one, Harry discovered several notes and a package from Theo. The first message was somewhat short.

"Well, it's been about a month since end of term, and I would have thought that nobody but muggles to talk to would have compelled you to write to any of us sooner. If you've got anything to say, we're here to read it.

Don't be a prat, regards - Theodore."

The next one carried a much more frustrated tone:

"Okay, now I'm beginning to get paranoid. I forgot to have a notice-me-not cast on your owl and her cage. Don't tell me the muggles have done something savage like eat it or something. Write back even a short note to let us know the muggles haven't burned you, at least, even if you have decided to ignore us. Stop being a prat, - Theodore"

And the final one brought immediate alarm to Harry.

"Okay, so today is the day before your birthday, and seeing as you haven't replied to any one of us, including Granger, means that either the muggles have done you in or you're ignoring us for some reason, but here's a present anyway. If you don't write back by tomorrow, my dad is going to be checking up on you, just so you know. Good luck, - Theo. And if you muggles read this, do return my gift, it was probably worth more than your entire hovel of a house."

The package that went with the letter contained a rather fancy chess set. The note attached read "Seeing as you're always hopelessly outmatched by me and nobody gets to use my set but me and my worthy opponents, you can use this to get better at the game so that one day, you might actually stand a chance against me."

Seeing as it had said "tomorrow is your birthday." and it was now the night _of_ his birthday, it was too late to stop Theo's dad from coming. He wasn't sure where in Britain they lived and even if Hedwig flew all night until morning she probably wouldn't get there in time. Well, at least tomorrow would be interesting.

Next was a short note from Draco asking how life with the muggles was treating him, and then a second letter with a quill and ink "in case you've run out which is why you haven't been responding to _any_ of us." as well as a wand polishing kit "so people don't think you're a slob."

Next was a letter from Tracey that made no mentions of when exactly it was sent, but it spoke of recently sent letters not being responded to but also made no mention of his birthday, so it had to be at least a few weeks old, but it came with something taped to the backside, a dagger, with scribbling above it "I may be being paranoid, but I'm worried about you living with _those_ muggles, they might have confiscated your wand, so have this to defend yourself. It's charmed (or cursed, whatever you want to call it) to heal the wounds it makes after a while so it's not as lethal as you think. Love, Tracey."

A second letter from her _did_ mention his birthday, so it was fairly recent. "By the way, you don't have to get us anything for our birthdays, we never really told you ours, and, well, everyone in the wizarding world knows yours. Just be sure to get us stuff for Christmas, and not after you've forgotten like last time. (I know what the most popular items that the owl order catalogue was selling for Christmas, Harry!) Still worried about your silence, unlike a few who think you're just being rude, but if it's any consolation Theodore's father is probably coming to check up on you sometime soon to make sure the muggles are treating you alright. Happy birthday, - Tracey. P.S., here's a book on Quidditch maneuvers and tactics so you can make sure Slytherin keeps the cup this year, too. You only have one job, make sure you do don't screw it up for us."

Harry grinned sheepishly. He honestly couldn't remember what he had got his friends for Christmas, as he had hastily ordered them the day -after- and he had thought nobody would notice. He also really ought to find out and memorize his friend's birthdays.

Next was a package from Blaise with a note attached "The others claim you haven't been responding to their pestering letters. Well, I wouldn't either. Honestly, I can hardly stand them. Anyway, have this special ink. It'll blind anyone who reads what you've written without your permission for up to an hour. Awesome, I know. Regards, - Blaise."

Followed by several letters from Daphne

The first one was rather lengthy letter detailing the various problems with organizing a birthday party. Apparently her parents had wanted to invite Harry but Daphne had told them he has "chores to do for his relatives." "I know, I'm sorry about it but they were planning on acting like you were a good friend of the family and introducing you to all my dad's business friends. Trust me, it would have been horrible here, too."

The second letter was Daphne apologizing profusely for forgetting her manners and not enquiring about Harry's wellbeing or any events in his life. The third carried a distinctly miffed tone: "You know, you could have told us you couldn't write. I know, it's not your fault, being raised by Muggles and all, but you could have told us that. No wonder you always did so poorly compared to me on the tests."

On and on, three other letter's worth of Daphne's guesswork as to why he wasn't replying. The final letter came with his birthday present, which honestly surprised Harry. From the way Tracey worded it, it sounded like more than just one person thought Harry didn't want to be friends with them anymore, but seemingly everyone still gave Harry something for his birthday. Daphne had gotten Harry a fancy brass and dark walnut box that had a magically expanded interior for Harry to store "his valuables", and also would refuse to open for anyone but Harry.

Last and most numerous were Hermione's letters. The first one was very casual, asking how his summer holiday had gone, as had the second, inquiring if he was on vacation somewhere faroff where owls took a great deal of time to fly to and that being the reason he hadn't responded to -anybody- yet, but by the fourth letter she was getting concerned.

"I remember what you told me on the first train ride _to_ Hogwarts, Harry. They better not be having you sleep in a _cupboard_ again. Is that what you really said, a cupboard? Honestly, Harry, they're breaking some laws, for certain."

The next one had been somewhat less dramatic

"Of course, they could have simply locked away Hedwig, afterall, owls don't live in suburban areas, let alone Snowy Owls and your relatives might not want to draw attention to themselves, so you can't respond to us."

Followed by the next letter:

"I've mailed Theodore, Tracey and Daphne and they all have been saying you've not been responding to them, either. Honestly, if Theodore's father wasn't coming to investigate I would have had my parents phone the police, but that could get you into more trouble. I have a feeling your aunt and uncle might not want to talk to somebody like Mr. Nott, so if he doesn't get much information about you I'll have my dad pay your relatives a visit before we do anything drastic. Try and have the best holiday you can, - Hermione."

The gift Hermione had given him was ingenious. A pot of invisible ink. "This was rather expensive but I think it's worth it. Even if your relatives haven't locked away your owl, if they dislike wizardkind as much as you made it seem, they're probably making sure you aren't writing any letters to any of use, so with this it'll look like you have bunches of blank parchment around your room. Now don't worry about anybody not being able to read it, most wizarding households have Revealers as I've been told, and I got one for myself when I ordered this for you. Anyway, Harry, have a happy birthday. Love - Hermione."

After Harry finished with the last of the letters and returned the gifts to their packaging and stored them under the loose floorboard, Harry looked at the clock. 11:00 PM, the Masons should be gone by now. Getting hungry, Harry retrieved a snack from his stash (that was getting rather full now, he'd have to store alot of it in the tiny chest Daphne had given him) and got to thinking. Either his friends were pulling a very co-ordinated trick on him, or the elf was indeed serious. Sure, his friends could have later claimed they sent Harry _dozens_ of letters without any proof and have the elf they had in on the joke vouch for them and claim it was intercepting letters, but most of the messages were long and seemed genuinely concerned.

It would have been alot simpler to give the elf blank folds of parchment and claim they were intercepted messages from his friends without handing them over. No, the elf was serious about danger at Hogwarts, the only problem was that Harry couldn't get out of the elf the nature of the threat, so now he (and the rest of the school) would have to find out the hard way.

As he rolled over for sleep, Harry began thinking of the many, many ways Mr Nott's visit tomorrow could go badly.


	2. Off to Nott Manor

Harry awoke with a start the next day. Already he could feel the anxiety building within him. He could be leaving this hellhole today. Or at the very least he could have a good laugh as Mr Nott infuriated the Dursleys. Or terrified them. Or turned them into toadstools...

Finishing his rushed breakfast of plain bread while Dudley and Vernon gorged themselves on whatever they were eating, Harry excused himself to his room. Less than an hour later he saw a man dressed in a top hat and tuxedo approach the door to Number 4, trailed by a smaller figure wearing a hooded sweatshirt. Harry crept down the stairs to stake himself a good position to observe the impending entertainment.

As the loud rapping on the door came, Harry tried his best not to grin. Within moments, Vernon appeared, waddling over to the door grumbling to himself

"Who the bloody hell could that be on a Saturday?..."

As he wrenched open the door, he called over his shoulder. "Dudley, did you expect one of your friends?"Only for his face to turn a minor shade of green as he eyed the man in front of him.

Mr. Nott was dressed like an ordinary, albeit aristocratic, muggle - from the 19th century. Vernon stood there, blinking stupidly, taking in the tuxedo, tophat, bowtie, even the fancy cane he had used to knock on Vernon's door. Before Harry's uncle could say anything however, Mr. Nott broke into a speech.

"I'm going to make this short. You don't like my kind, and I don't care for yours. Our kinds have remained separate for centuries and should stay that way. However, we protect our own and young Mr. Potter hasn't been responding to any messages from my son, and as we look after our own, as I'm sure you muggles do as well, I'm here take him off your hands so he can spend the rest of the summer vacation at my house. How does that sound, Mr. Dursley?"

Uncle Vernon stood there, spluttering, dumbfounded by the lengthy speech.

"You're one of... them?" Vernon said, his eyes bulging as he slowly backed away.

"Yes, the same as your nephew. Since you've likely been preventing him from responding to my son's correspondence I assume I have to ask him to stay the rest of the summer at our house in person, unless you've burned him at the stake?" Mr. Nott said with an odd grin, the same used by Theo whenever he made one of his dark jokes.

Uncle Vernon, turning a shade of pink, began to recoil.

"No, no, of course not! Don't talk rubbish, he's right upstairs, and keep your voice down!" Vernon said, glaring over Mr. Nott's shoulder, his eyes shifting from side to side looking for any eavesdropping neighbors.

"So do you want him gone or not?" Mr. Nott said impatiently.

"Of course I do, you can take him right away. BOY!"

Vernon shouted into the hall, only for Harry to tap him on the shoulder.

"Oh, you're right here. One of your freaky friends wants you to stay at his house for the rest of the summer, so pack your things and get out of here."

"You!" Vernon, turning to Mr. Nott, half barked, half squeaked, trying to sound intimidating. "You can stay outside while the boy gets his things."

"And here I was hoping to be invited inside for whatever riveting conversations you could muster." said Mr. Nott, bowing out of the house with the same creepy grin on his face.

Turning to Harry, his Uncle began shifting his eyes from side to side as if he was expecting imminent attack from multiple directions.

"You boy! Go get your things right now before the neighbors see you or any of your kind hanging around my house."

Not believing his luck, ten minutes later Harry was walking out the door with all his worldly possessions, free from the Dursleys for nearly another year.

"Don't come back for Christmas!" Vernon barked before slamming the door.

"I didn't plan on it." Harry said icily in reply.

"Or Easter!" his Uncle snapped, reappearing through a tiny gap from the slightly ajar door before slamming it once more.

"Well, not quite the performance I had hoped for." tutted Mr. Nott

"I had hoped there would be more adverse a reaction from that man, but apparently he has more restraint than his appearance would suggest."

"I thought it was brilliant!" Harry said, grinning.

"It's good to see you." he continued, nodding towards Nott the Younger.

"So why weren't you answering anybody's mail? Felt like being a hermit as a summer job?" Theodore demanded.

"Beats me." Harry said shrugging. "I mean, I know why, some mad elf was intercepting my letters, but I don't know _**why**_ he was, _for sure_ , at least."

"An elf?" Theodore asked skeptically. "You mean a house elf? Did you catch it's name?"

"No, sorry." Harry said, rubbing his neck and feeling nervous. He had made a deal, and he wasn't dishonorable enough to give away the elf's name.

Dobby probably *would* be punished severely if his owners found out he had left the family home without permission. While he was annoyed at Dobby, he didn't want to make life harder for the already ill-treated creature.

"Alright, boys. You know the procedure, Theodore.

Harry, grab my forearm and hold on tight. And should you feel the urge, please direct your vomit elsewhere." Mr. Nott said, peering around the small alley between two nearly identical suburban houses.

"What?" Harry asked, drawing a blank in his mind.

"Apparation." Theo said darkly.

"What's apparation? I think I've heard of it before, but I can't remember..." Harry trailed off

"A bit like what muggles call "Teleportation" You de-materialize, or, Dissaparate, from one point in the physical plain and re-materialize, or, Apparate, in another location. It's efficient but highly unpleasant. Now, grab on." Mr. Nott finished, gesturing towards the vice-like grip Theodore had on his father.

Almost as soon as Harry had a hold of Mr. Nott's forarm he felt the horrible sensation of being squeezed through a tube in the vacuum of space. He was incapable of breathing, every matter of his being was being squeezed towards who knew where.

Just as he felt his consciousness begin to fade and a wave of nausea rise, he fell flat on his face into... what felt like sand.

Getting up and spitting out what was indeed sand, Harry began looking around.

"Where are we?" Harry said, turning towards the rushing sound of waves behind him. The sea (but which sea?) lay before him.

"Welcome, Harry..." Theodore said, tapping Harry on the shoulder. "To Nott Manor." Nott the Elder finished for him, gesturing towards a large shelf of rock bout a hundred yards from the shoreline.

"W-where?" Harry said, dumbfounded. Had the lack of oxygen from the Apparation damaged his brain?"

"Right here." grinned Mr Nott, waving his wand in a wide, sweeping motion.

The very light that made up the rocks seemed to melt away, revealing two large stone doors, nearly as large as the doors that gave way to the Entrance Hall at Hogwarts. With another wave of his wand, they swung open with a ponderous noise. The interior was pitch black until, with yet another wave of Mr. Nott's wand, countless torches burnt into life.

"Welcome home. Well, not your home, at least. My home. You're welcome to stay, of course, but don't become a squatter. Or get lost inside." Theodore said as the great stone doors swung shut.


End file.
